Santa Plays Hardball
by Isabelle
Summary: A new tradition is born as Blair insists on reading a custom-made story to their twins despite their inquisitive nature and Chuck goes out of his way to make it memorable. Fluff warning ;


**Santa Plays Hardball**

By Isabelle

Rating: PG-13

Summary: A new tradition is born as Blair insists on reading a custom-made story to their twins despite their inquisitive nature and Chuck goes out of his way to make it memorable.

Disclaimer: So I still don't own anything.

A/N: In an attempt to write a secret santa story I ended up with two of them, so you all get a bonus one. ;)

---------------

"'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the penthouse, not a creature was stirring, not even at the Hampton's house," she read to her children, who had currently cuddled into the bed with them as per the new tradition. Benson Bass, with his tiny designer glasses perched on his miniature nose, blinked up at their Christmas story book.

"How about at the Paris chateau?" Matilda piped in from her corner, happily stuffed under her father's warm arm. Blair decided she liked the days of old when they would just take the customized story as it was and not ask so many questions. But then again this was the first Christmas they would actually remember.

"Yes, Mommy. Was anyone stirring there?" Benson asked, eyes wide with innocence.

"No, there was no stirring there, either," Chuck provided, sending his pregnant wife a smile. He was always proud of his children's smarts.

"How about the vineyard in Tuscany? Was Miss Valencia stirring there?" Matilda – determined not to let it drop – asked, her thick brown curls bouncing around her.

"No. There was no stirring there," Blair stated, intent on continuing the story.

"Well, then, she's not doing a very good job, is she?" Benson snapped. His brows were furrowed just like his mother's when she got something into her head. Chuck straight out laughed and tossed his son's hair.

"Can I continue the story, please?" Blair stopped them before they could ask about London, Monaco and Rio.

Matilda smiled, her dimples showing as she burrowed closer to her father. "Yes, Mommy."

"Thank you." Blair cleared her throat. "The couture stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; –"

"Who is St. Nicholas, Mommy?" Benson asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"He's Santa, isn't he, Daddy?" Matilda, ever so clever, answered her twin while giving her father a brilliant smile. She was always wanting praise from him.

"Yes, he is. Now let Mommy continue her story." He pressed a kiss to her soft hair, and she smiled more widely.

Blair rolled her eyes at their completely and pathetically adorable display of affection. Benson pressed himself closer to her, and she placed her arm around him, holding him close.

"The twins were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And papa in his bowtie, and I in my hat –"

"What color bowtie were you wearing daddy?" Matilda interrupted once more, looking up at her father. Next to her Benson stared also at their father, wanting confirmation.

"Hum…" Chuck attempted to ignore his wife's piercing glare. "Red. It was red."

Benson, not fully satisfied, continued. "Like the one I have, daddy?"

"Yes, Benson, just like that one," Blair replied, attempting to bring their attention back to the large book before her. Benson shot his mother a toothy smile as she pushed his glasses up. He was too adorable to not kiss on the head. "Now, shall we continue?"

"Yes!" Matilda cried happily, wiggling her painted little toes (courtesy of flighty Aunt Serena).

Blair smiled, going back to her book.

"Had just settled down for a long winter's nap, when out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter," Blair said enthusiastically.

Benson gasped and Matilda sat up at this, making Chuck smirk at the upcoming interruption.

"Did it wake Dorota?" Benson demanded.

"No, sweetheart, it's a story," Blair placated with him.

"Of course it woke Dorota, didn't it, Daddy? Remember when Dorota woke up when we tried to sneak out?" Matilda reminded her brother.

Blair sighed, not liking to remember the day her children thought their parents had been kidnapped and attempted to go find them in Central Park no less. According to them, a flashlight, a Barbie and a toy gun would've been sufficient to find their parents. According to their parents, they were horny as hell and decided to use the limo for old time's sake since they had the most inquisitive children in the world. The one round turned into a few more rounds (hence the current pregnancy). Naturally Benson had declared that they had been kidnapped and Matilda wholeheartedly agreed, so they concocted a plan to save them.

"Matilda, my love, you must let me finish," Blair pleaded. "We'll never finish, and Santa will never come because none of you have gone to bed."

Benson looked affronted. "Daddy will get us our gifts, won't you, Daddy? If Santa slacks off and doesn't bring us gifts. Won't you, Daddy?"

Chuck was about to chuckle at the occurrences of the two, but stopped mid-laugh when he spotted Blair's face. "I can't, son. I signed a contract, you see."

"What sort of contract?" Matilda challenged, incapable of believing that their father would sign something that would have lead to such disastrous consequences.

"A parent contract," Blair supplied, eyeing her husband angrily at the situation he had stuffed them in. "We couldn't bring you from the hospital until we agreed to this, so you see we must finished before you're left without presents."

Benson scowled darkly, his little glasses once more sliding down to the tip of his nose.

"Where were we?"

"The clatter that didn't wake Dorota," Chuck answered, and Blair glared at him.

"Yes. I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window, I flew like a flash. Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash –"

"We don't have shutters, Mommy," Matilda pointed out.

Chuck, sensing that his wife had reached the end of her patience intervened. "Princess, let mommy finish, Ok?"

Matilda was now scowling as deeply as her brother, tucked into her father and glaring at the misleading book.

"The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave the lustre of mid-day to Central Park below, when, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer –"

"Did you really see it, Mommy?" Benson exploded, eyes wide in wonder.

"Were the reindeer pretty, Mommy?" Matilda piped in.

Blair sighed, turning to her children. "Yes, it was lovely, my loves –"

"Let Mommy finish the story," Chuck pleaded.

"Do they allow reindeer in Central Park?" Benson demanded.

"On Christmas they do," Chuck affirmed, and Benson pushed his glasses up, still frowning. He was beginning doubt this story more and more.

"With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!"

Matilda gasped, her hazel eyes round as saucers.

"More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!"

Benson's eyes were glued to the book, staring over the pictures of his mother in a custom made gown as she watched Santa Claus flying over Central Park.

"-To the top of the Empire! To the top of the roof! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

"Felipe must've caught them!" Matilda burst out, referring to their very diligent building security man.

"Felipe didn't catch them," Chuck said, still all too amused by his very smart children.

"Remember when he caught us on the roof, Daddy?" Benson asked, never missing a beat.

Chuck grimaced. He didn't want to go into this with his son, when he had ripped his Egyptian cotton sheets and made a cape of it. He dragged his sister to the roof and was about to perform his first act as Super Bass when Felipe caught them. He was ever grateful to the man and made sure he had a huge Christmas bonus every year. Blair had been beside herself, screaming at them and hugging them the next moment. The twins certainly kept things interesting. More interesting had been attempting to remove the 'S B' from their son's chest as he had used permanent marker to draw it there.

"The book, buddy." Chuck turned his son's small head towards the book. Benson scowled and pushed his glasses up.

"As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, so up to the building-top the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too."

"I don't believe this book, Mommy. I think they sold you a bad book!" Matilda stated with finality.

"Matilda Eleanor Bass, there will be no more interruptions. And that goes for you, too, Benson Bartholomew Bass."

The children looked properly chastised and remained quiet as Blair happily continued the rest of her story. Once she was done, she realized she had gone through it undisturbed and turned to look at them, finding her husband fast asleep with Matilda and Benson asleep on top of him. A smile tugged at her face and she closed the custom book that Chuck had made for her and turned to pepper her children with kisses, making them stir.

Chuck blinked up at her. "Did he drive out of sight?" He asked.

Blair smiled. "Yes, I'm sure we will see him next year."

"Mommy!" Matilda held her arms up for her mother to pick her up and Blair did, groaning as she did.

"You're too big for mommy to pick you up, baby," Blair complained to her, and Chuck's eyes were intently watching her. She was only four months pregnant, but he became quite the worrier during the nine months.

"No, I am not!" Matilda replied indignantly. "I'm only five!"

Benson, once asleep always asleep, was limp on top of Chuck. Chuck carefully removed his son's small glasses and picked him up, letting the little boy's head rest on his shoulder.

"Can't we stay up a little while longer?" Matilda asked on Blair's arms. Blair took her to their grand nursery and shook her head.

"No, my love." Blair kissed her cheek and set her on her palatial Princess bed.

Chuck carefully placed Benson in his motorcar bed and kissed his head. Benson murmured in his sleep but remained nearly snoring when Chuck placed his small glasses on his night table.

"Daddy, a kiss for me, too!" Matilda demanded, her arms open wide as Blair chuckled, shaking her head.

"And a kiss for the prettiest little girl in New York," Chuck whispered gallantly as Matilda jumped into his arms, showering him with kisses.

Blair bid her baby boy goodnight and extended her arm to Chuck once he had tucked Matilda in bed. He grabbed her hand, gently bringing it to his lips, and pulled her to him.

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night," he murmured against her hair. Blair turned back to look at her children once Chuck turned off their light and they were peacefully asleep in their perspective beds.

"All set?" She murmured to Chuck who nodded with a devilish smirk.

"All set."

~*~

A sudden clatter woke Matilda from her light sleep. She bolted up in bed, brown eyes wide as curls bounced around her. Her small chest rose and fell as she attempted to control her breathing. Then she heard it again! She jumped from her bed, her bare feet making padding noises on the hardwood floors. She ran across their large bedroom and quickly jumped in bed with Benson, startling him awake.

"Maddie!" Benson groaned, annoyed.

"There's a robber, Ben!" Matilda's eyes were wide with fright.

"There is not, Maddie. Go to your own bed – your feet are cold," Benson cuddled back into his pillow but Matilda, headstrong as ever, didn't let it go. Instead, she burrowed herself further next her brother.

"Benson, I am not lying, I swear –"

And a louder clatter was heard. Benson sat up, blinking into the room. He quickly grabbed his glasses and started at the window.

"You see! A robbe –"

"Shh!" Benson demanded.

"_Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!"_

The twins eyes were wide as they simultaneously looked at one another and then made a run for the window.

"It's him, Benson, it's him!" Matilda cried excitedly, her grin wide and her eyes sparkling.

"He's on the roof!" Benson declared. "If Felipe finds him, he'll call the police!"

"He won't!" Matilda assured him.

"Oh, he will! Daddy slips him a nice check on the 23rd, on the dot!" Benson hissed and then jumped down from the window ledge.

"Benson! Where are you going?" Matilda lifted her skirt and bounced after him. "Mommy and Daddy said we shouldn't have any more adventures!"

Benson looked over his small shoulder. "We'll wake them, that's what we'll do!"

"We will?" Matilda asked, running after him down the dark hall.

Simultaneously they burst into their parent's bedroom and jumped on the bed.

Blair – startled out of her wits – let out a scream, waking Chuck and making him fall off the bed. He rolled to the floor, taking the blanket with him. Not to mention the children, who were tangled in it.

"Matilda! Benson!" Blair cried, alarmed at the state of her family tangled in expensive sheets on the floor.

"He's on the roof, Mom!" Benson cried, pushing his glasses up his nose and accidentally stepping on Chuck's balls.

"What?" Blair asked, helping Matilda off her father as he groaned in the floor.

"Santa Claus, Mommy! It's Santa! On the roof!" Matilda's curls were a mass around her.

"Chuck, did you hear that? Santa is on the roof of the Empire!" Blair said, scandalized but smirking at him.

"Where else should he be?" Benson demanded. "And Felipe will call the police, Dad – Dad! Dad, you've got to do something!"

"Yes, Daddy! Don't let Felipe scare Santa, or I'll never get my Valentino shoes!" Matilda cried, on the verge of tears.

"Chuck, do something!" Blair demanded, pulling him from the floor.

"Ok, Ok. Everyone calm down." Chuck winced as he walked. "Let me see what I can do."

Blair sat on the bed, tucking her feet under her and pulling Matilda to her.

"Ben. You're in charge. Watch your sister and mother until I come back," Chuck ruffled his hair then grabbed his robe and marched out of the room.

Twenty minutes later, Daddy Bass returned, shivering from the cold.

Matilda was nearly asleep on Blair, Blair was munching on pickles, and Benson was pacing back and forth, his hair falling slightly over his glasses.

"Did you see him, Dad? Did you?" Benson demanded, waking up Matilda.

"Was he big, daddy? Was he?" Matilda asked groggily.

"Yes, _Charles_, how was old Nick?" Blair popped another pickle into her mouth, smirking at Chuck.

Chuck shot her a look and then bent in front of his children as they stared at him with wide eyes.

"Now listen you two, I had a word with him and with Felipe. Felipe agreed to let Santa visit the building without calling the cops, but Santa said that if you two were not in bed within ten minutes, he wouldn't bring presents," Chuck said with grave seriousness.

"What were _your_ demands, Daddy?" Matilda asked, affronted that someone other than her parents and grandparents were telling her what to do.

"Yes, Dad, did you counter it?" Benson demanded.

Chuck blanched. Blair smirked further.

"Yes, my love, did you counter it? We won't have some sweaty, old man with questionable fetishes telling us Basses what to do," Blair said innocently, ignoring Chuck's glare.

"Well, you see… He had leverage." Chuck stuttered.

"Leverage?" Benson asked, surprised.

"The points is that I acquiesced –"

"No, Daddy!" Matilda was scandalized.

"I did. Sadly I had no choice. It's quite alright, this way you both get your presents and your mother stops eating disgusting things."

A sharp crunch was heard from Blair's direction.

The twin's shoulders slumped. "So off you go, both of you, to your beds."

"Ok, Daddy," Matilda finally said. "But for the record: Santa plays hardball."

"Matilda Eleanor Bass!" Blair cried.

"He does, Mommy," Benson defended his sister.

"Where did you two learn that word?" Blair demanded, now standing. Chuck shrank back.

The small eyes all turned to look at their father. Chuck gulped and attempted a smile at his wife.

"I told you it was a bad idea to let them come to the office with me," Chuck countered. Blair rolled her eyes and turned to the twins.

"To bed, both of you. And you shall not be using that word again. Am I clear?" Blair said in her most authoritative voice, making a sweet warm chill drop into Chuck's pants. She was such a hot mom.

"Yes, Mommy," they both agreed. Benson broke into a run, grabbing his sister's hand and dragging her back to their nursery.

Blair's sharp eyes turned back to her very turned on husband.

"Oh, no you don't, Mister," she snapped.

Chuck ignored the remark, grabbing her and nuzzling her neck.

"You're cold, Chuck, stop." Blair attempted to pry herself away from his grasp.

"You smell like pickles," he chuckled.

"You and your _brilliant_ plans," she hissed. "Poor Felipe!"

"Oh, he's fine. Bad landing. Good thing we're covered." He smirked at her.

"And telling our children these lies!" Blair said, not happy.

"It's magic, baby. They'll thank us one day." Chuck focused his attentions on her neck. She fought him for a moment and then gave in, melting like jelly against his chest. Fucking hormones made her horny all of the time.

"You're such a marshmallow, Bass," she murmured, smiling happily as he turned his attention to her earlobe, his hand tracing the contours of her slightly swollen stomach.

"Oh, you think I'm soft?" He demanded.

"And fluffy," Blair added.

"Let me show you just how _soft_ I am," he grabbed her and sent her roughly to the bed, making Blair yelp loudly. He got on all fours on top of her, licking her neck and poking her stomach with his arousal.

Blair let out a contented sigh.

And then.

"Daddy? Why are you on top of Mommy?" There they were, innocent as lambs, holding hands by the door and starring curiously at their parents.

"Chuck!" Blair yelped, horrified, pushing him off her. "We're exercising, darlings, that's all!"

Chuck let out a loud ground, throwing a pillow over his crotch before turning to face his children.

Benson blinked, pushing his little glasses up his nose. Matilda's head tilted as she chewed on her bottom lip.

"Auntie Serena exercises a lot, too," Matilda declared. "But she told us not to tell you."

Blair's face turned bright red in anger. "Did she?"

"Oh, yes." Benson agreed, nodding.

"Are we not allowed to tell people you exercise, either?" Matilda wanted to confirm.

Chuck broke in. "Why are you two not in bed?"

The twins looked extremely guilty for a minute. Then they confessed.

"We were scared."

Basses, afraid? Never! Of course, Blair found it endearing, forgetting her lust and wanting to hold her babies. Chuck stared at her in disbelief when he saw her caving.

"Come and get into bed with us, babies. We will all wait for St. Nick." Blair pulled Benson up, since Matilda had already crawled between her parents.

Once the twins were settled between them, Benson snoring loudly and Matilda's head nodding off, Chuck turned to stare at Blair, who seemed to be quite content.

"_Come and get into bed with us_?" He asked, imitating her earlier words.

"They were scared, Chuck," Blair defended.

"And you call me soft," Chuck hissed back, careful not to wake his Princess, who had finally settled into sleep.

"Aren't you soft?" Blair teased.

"I am _now_." Chuck gritted his teeth.

"Good. We wouldn't want you hard with the kids here," she laughed, settling herself under the covers.

"Daddy?" Matilda's little voice piped up, laden with sleep but still very much aware of the adult conversation going on around her. "What's hard?"

Blair stifled a laugh, and Chuck cleared his throat. "Nothing. Apparently nothing is."

-------

The End.

A/N: That's it for a while, bbs, have a great Holiday season and a Happy New Year! :)


End file.
